Monument 16
by StoryNinja101
Summary: It started just like any other day for everyone. The same boring routine. In one minute, everything changed. First came the hail, then the earthquake, and the chemical weapons spill. Nothing would ever be the same again. "I don't know if we'll make it out of this alive, but as long as you're by my side, I know we'll be okay." OCxOC


**A/N: Alright, so I started another fanfic, even if it's not for a very popular book trilogy it was something I really wanted to write about. Originally, my sister came up with the idea and the characters, gave one character to me, and we were going to collaborate on it, which I was super excited about. But then she got lazy and didn't ever want to write and I had to keep pestering her, which was no fun for either of us. So I finally got her to just give everything to me so I could continue on my own. Anyway, here's the first chapter, I hope those of you reading enjoy.**

Monument 16

 **Chapter 1: Day 1; Tinks**

Darius's P.O.V.

It was just like any other day. I woke up to the sleeping angel next to me, my best friend Andy, like it should always be. This was actually one of the few nights I could get any sleep at all, considering I only ever have horrible nightmares that keep me up unless she's there. Partly because I maybe, sorta, kinda… like her as more than my best friend and partly because she sings to me when she's there.

I put my glasses on and almost didn't want to wake her, but what's the fun in teasing her if she couldn't dish it back? And I know, why is she sleeping in my bed with me, at my house, if she isn't by girlfriend? Well, my house only has two bedrooms, I won't let her sleep on the couch or floor and vice versa, and neither of us dare go into Vanessa's room. I guess I'll elaborate; Vanessa is my biological mother. Anyway, back to why my best friend spent the night, she needed a break from her father, Steven, and she comes here often to do that because Vanessa's hardly ever home.

Alright, I'm getting tired of just referring to her as "she," "her," and "my best friend." Her name is Andromeda, pronounced "and-row-me-duh," but most people call her Andy. I'm the only one who can call her Dro. I only use that nickname when we're alone or it's in my head, or in this case, on paper.

Now it's time to wake Dro up, so I shake her… a lot. Then I shout, "Dro!" in her ear, effectively scaring her awake.

My bus is supposed to be here at 6:45, but the driver is almost always late and arrives at about 6:55. It's 6:30 now, and neither of us take very long to get ready. We used to drive ourselves to school, but that was before the gas shortage. A while ago, a law was passed that all students, including us Seniors, take the bus for walk to conserve gas. Both our houses are too far from the high school to walk, so we opted to take the bus like everyone else.

"Dude!" she grumbles and punches me lightly on the shoulder, "What was that for?"

"Ow," I mocked.

"Don't test me," she growled into the shared pillow. What? We're poor!

I laugh at her just to egg her on, when Dro frowns and lunges at me, knocking us both to the floor. We land with her straddling my waist and her hands on either side of my head, my hands instinctively flew to her hips. I let us lay there a little longer than I probably should have, studying her face and subconsciously rubbing her hips with my thumbs, her clear blue eyes sparkling in the semi-darkness of the room, her long, curly black hair pooling around my head. It just felt so right I didn't want it to ever end, but I knew it had to. So I snapped myself out of my trance to smirk and wink at her, "I could get used to this."

Dro blushed, but tried to cover it up with a laugh. Then she leaned down and kissed my nose playfully, surprising me, and got up while calling me a dork.

"You know it," I joked as she helped me up, "now come on, the bus will be here soon."

I take a quick shower, removing the enormous amount of bracelets I use to hide the many scars lining my wrists because I hate long sleeves and my glasses. There are also numerous scars all over the rest of my body, but my clothes cover those ones. Stepping out, I replace the bracelets and wrap a towel around my waist to throw on a T-shirt, jeans, and converse in my room. I run my fingers through my black "emo" hair with red streaks once I get dressed and slip my glasses back on. Usually, I'd wear my contacts because people actually notice when I do and comment on it, and I hate talking to anyone other than Dro. But it's her birthday and I know she likes it when I wear them, so I'll put up with it for her. Just in case, I shove my contacts into my pocket. On my way to sit out front to wait for Dro, I grab something I hid in my underwear drawer and stick it in mu other pocket.

Dro stepped out the door just as the bus pulled up, neither of us bothering to lock the door. Like there's anything anyone would want in that house anyway, and the only valuable thing I own is in my pocket.

About twelve minutes later, the bus headed down Park Trail Drive to pick up a Junior, Dean, the elementary-middle school bus right behind ours for his eighth-grade brother, Alex. They were both running to catch their respective busses.

"Don't forget, we're going to the Salvation Army after school," Alex reminded his brother.

"Yeah, sure," Dean replied as the driver laid on the horn.

Yeah, I know a lot of people's names, I may be an anti-social Senior, but I pay attention.

Mrs. Wooly, the elementary-middle school bus driver since before I was born, sarcastically thanked Alex for gracing them with his presence as Dean vaulted up the steps. She was an institution in our town, a grizzled, wiry-haired, ashtray-scented, tough-talking institution notorious and totally devoted to bus driving, which you can't say about everyone.

On the other hand, the high school driver, Mr. Reed, was morbidly obese and entirely forgettable. The only thing he was known for was that he drank his morning coffee out of an old jelly jar, which is more food than Dro and I get on a regular basis.

It was early in the route and Jake Simonson was already holding court in the back. He was another Senior, but he was kind of stuck up, being a football hero and all-around champion of the popular. Moving here from Texas a year ago and being a big shot back where football is king helped him retain, and perhaps increase, his stature.

"I'm telling y'all – concessions!" Jake blabbed. "At my old high school a bunch of girls sold pop and cookies and these baked potatoes they used to cook on the grill. Every game. They made, like, a million dollars."

I openly scoffed at that, knowing no one would notice. Dro and I are practically invisible, so I liked to take advantage and observe everything. I found it more entertaining than technology, not that I had a minitab in the first place. Dro rolled her eyes and returned her gaze out the window.

"A million dollars?" Astrid Heyman asked, continuing the conversation. She was the champion diver on the swim team, a Senior, and the girl of Dean's dreams (I know the guy has a huge crush on her). "Even if I could make a million dollars, I wouldn't give up playing my own sport to be a booster for the football team."

Jake flashed her one of his "golden smiles," as everyone has taken to calling them, "Not a booster, baby, an entrepreneur!" She punched his arm (I would have punched him in the face). "Ow!" he complained while grinning, "God, you're strong. You should box."

"I have four younger brothers," Astrid answered, "I do."

'I had an older sister,' I thought bitterly, glancing at the billions of bracelets on my wrists, wanting desperately to add another scar, and hoping Dro hadn't caught me before shifting to look at the back of the forest green pleather seat in front of me. I didn't want her to feel that need today, especially since neither of us had anything sharp near.

I refocused on the conversations around me. Josie Miller and Trish Greenstein, Sophomores, discussed plans for some kind of animal rights demonstration.

The kids in the back continued their sports talk. Niko Mills, another Junior who doesn't speak much, leans over to point at Dean's untied shoe. Dean bends to tie it, thanks his classmate, and then immediately put in his earbuds.

There are a lot of rumors going around about Niko, but he neither confirms nor corrects them, so I choose to ignore them. Students say he lived in a cabin with his grandfather up in the foothills near Mount Herman, and they hunt for their own food. They also say they had no electricity and use wild mushrooms for toilet paper, which I don't believe. I mean, I'm dirt poor and live hear a forest, I may not have a minitab like everyone else, but I do have electricity and toilet paper. But back to Niko, people called him "Brave Hunter Man," a nickname that actually fit him with his perfect brown-skin-brown-eyes-brown-hair combo. He carried himself with that stiff pride you get when no one will talk to you, like Dro and I.

I decided that it was finally time to stop listening in on everyone else and talk to Dro. "So, Andy, Happy Birthday," I almost whispered, knowing she'd hear me, and pulled out the small jewelry box from my pocket.

"What?" She gasped when she saw the box, "Oh, Dare, you know you didn't have to get me anything."

"I know, but you're 18 today, so I wanted to do something special," I argued back, placing the object in her lap when she wouldn't take it herself.

She nearly started crying when she finally, reluctantly, opened it. Nearly. "Oh my God," was all she could get out. It was my older sister, Mallia's, favorite necklace that Vanessa sold for money. I found it in a pawn shop last summer and got a job at the local Greenway Superstore to save up enough to get it back. I managed to make the last payment on it last week and decided to give it to Dro for her Birthday since I knew she'd take good care of it. Besides, I'd never wear it anyway, it'd just sit around collecting dust like at the pawn shop.

I helped her put it on and she hugged me. Then came this _tink tink tink_ sound. They sounded _like_ rain, but more metallic. The _tinks_ got louder until Mr. Reed screamed, "Holy Christ!" Then the ceiling suddenly started denting and a cobweb crack spread over the windshield. With eachBAM, the windshield grew more white as the cracks shot through the surface.

I decided to look out mine and Dro's window.

Hail ranging in all different sizes from normal to softball size pelted the street.

Cars swerved everywhere and Mr. Reed, ever the lead foot, slammed on the gas instead of the break, seeming to follow everyone else.

The bus hurdled through an intersection, over the median, and into the parking lot of the Greenway I work at. It was fairly deserted because it was 7:15 now and it didn't open 'till later.

I held onto Dro to shield and protect her, she in turn leaned forward (taking me with her) to grab underneath the seat in front of us as the bus slid on ice and swerved into a spin. We knew what was going to happen next. We spun faster for maybe three seconds before hitting a lamppost with a sickening metallic shriek, denting the bus in half three seats ahead of Dro and I on our side, having hit it full on up front.

Everyone save for us two went flying and all I heard was our breathing, others grunting, and impact sounds. The bus proceeded to flip on our side, banging my head on the window, and scream along the asphalt as the person in the seat across the aisle fell on us, shuddering to a halt.

The person on top of me began shifting. Then I realized they were dead and hail had broken through the glass above us when blood dripped on my face, the shifting came from the force of the hail beating them. The dead body and blood didn't bother me, I'd seen a lot of death in my life, so I get up on my hands and knees to keep from crushing Dro.

This time there was screaming and shouting everywhere as students scrambled for cover under loose seats or against the ceiling that had become the wall.

"You okay?" I asked Dro to make sure she was alright. She had finally let go of the seat, which came slightly loose from the impact, and peered up at me to nod her head. I gave a small sigh of relief and the tiniest of smiles as reassurance.

I dubbed a good time to see what was going on around us, standing up and using the body to block the balls of ice, not caring if blood dripped on either of us since I knew it bothered her as much as it did me. Peaking over the side of the seat, I saw the elementary-middle bus was still going through the white spray outside and what was left of the windshield. The younger kids were lucky; Mrs. Wooly hadn't skidded or lost control like Mr. Reed.

Mrs. Wooly was cutting through the parking lot, headed right for the main entrance of the Greenway. She's going to drive into the building to get those kids out of the hail. I watched as that bus smashed through the glass doors.

A sad whimpering sounded up ahead and I noticed slight movement as someone closer investigated the noise. No doubt it was Mr. Reed making that sound, I bet half of him was crushed from crashing into the lamppost. He soon stopped whimpering, and I knew he had died.

Josie Miller screamed and my head snapped in her direction. While everyone else had instinctively gotten out of the line of fire (or ice), she sat, wailing, letting herself get pelted with hail. She was covered in blood, but not her own, I gathered, when I saw her pulling on someone's arm from between two mangled seats. Then I remembered Trish was with her. The arm was limp, like the person I held over my head, and kept slipping out of Josie's grip.

From his safe spot beneath an overturned seat, an asshole Junior named Brayden who always went on about his dad working at NORAD, took out his minitab and began shooting a video of Josie screaming and struggling. This pissed me off and I yelled, "Stop being a fucking dick!" at him.

At that moment, a particularly large hailstone hit the poor girl on the forehead and a pink gash opened in her dark skin. Blood trickled down her face. Those of us looking on knew the falling ice would kill her if she stayed out in the open.

"Christ," Brayden cursed at his minitab, having seemingly ignored me. "Come on!" He really gets on my nerves.

I just waited for someone to help Josie because I wasn't going to leave Dro unprotected. Niko finally reached out and grabbed her legs, pulling her under a twisted seat with him, probably holding her letting her sob.

Niko's action somehow broke the spell. Kids started trying to get out. Astrid crawled toward the front to try to kick through the windshield. She saw someone on the ground under a seat and shouted, "Help me!" Then she stood and screamed to Jake and his people in the back, "We've got to get into the store!"

The person Astrid had yelled at on the ground, who sounded like Dean, croaked out, "We can't go out! The hail will kill us!" But she had already returned to the back.

I guess it was my turn to do something, even though I could care less about anyone here, including myself, I couldn't leave Dro in danger. "Try the emergency exits!" I shouted and turned to my best friend to help her up, but she was already standing. Somehow, I failed to notice her get up, so I had no clue as to when she did so.

I shook it off and we nodded at each other. I dropped the body and we raced for one of the ceiling exits, leaving the back to Jake and Astrid. None of us could get them to budge, they were stuck. It was mayhem for a few minutes as everybody else panicked.

Then I heard the beeping of a school bus backing up. I didn't quite believe it at first with all the screaming and banging, but from this position, it was easier to see out the windshield.

Mrs. Wooly was backing up her bus toward us. It was listing to the right pretty bad and I saw where it was dented in the front from smashing into the store. But she was coming for us.

Black smoke started pouring in from somewhere up front, quickly filling the rest of the bus. I didn't bother trying to filter the air with my shirt or hold my breath, I didn't care, my only concern was getting Dro to safety.

I fought the drowsiness and the burning sensation, focusing on opening the emergency hatch.

Then the others' cries got louder, making my head spin: "The bus is on fire!" "It's going to explode!" and "We're going to die!"

A moment later, I heard the clanking sound of metal on metal and the words being screamed changed: "She's trying to open to door!" and "Help us!"

A bright light broke through the darkness on the bus. Mrs. Wooly had gotten the emergency door in the back open, an ax in her hands. Then she shouted, "Get in the godforsaken bus!"

Andromeda's P.O.V.

I had actually been having a somewhat good dream for once. Usually, it's either blank sleep or nightmares, so it's really rare to even get a weird dream where nothing makes sense. I always pray for blank sleep. I guess I have it better than Dare in that department, he only ever has nightmares, so he never sleeps. The only time he gets any sort of rest at all is when I'm there to sing to him, on those nights he gets blank sleep.

My good dream was interrupted by what felt like an earthquake, then a familiar voice shouting my name, "Dro!"

I jolt awake, gasping. Today wasn't going to be normal, that much I could tell from my rare good dream. Though, I could only guess what might happen. How fitting for my 18th birthday.

"Dude!" I grumbled groggily at my best friend, punching him lightly in the shoulder, "What was that for?"

"Ow," he mocked.

I flopped on my stomach, growling, "Don't test me," into the shared pillow. What? Our families are poor. Not that it bothered me at all, I've had a crush on him since we were fourteen.

Almost forgot to mention, my best friend's name is Darius. Most people call him Dare, but I'm the only one who can call him Dar-Dar.

Dar-Dar ignored my warning and deliberately laughed at me. I frowned and lunged at him, knocking us both to the floor. I landed on top of him, straddling his waist with my hands on either side of his head, and his hands immediately positioned themselves on my hips. My mid-thigh length curly black hair fell to frame his face.

It was a beautiful sight and feeling, his thumbs subconsciously rubbing soothing circles on my exposed skin as my shirt rode up slightly, sending pleasant shivers up and down my spine. I gazed down at his hauntingly breathtaking green eyes behind his glasses. I love it when he wears his glasses, and he knows it, so it's probably his way of saying Happy Birthday since he almost never wears them. I desperately wanted to lean in and kiss him, barely holding myself back. I know he doesn't feel that way about me, though, he's my best friend.

Then Dar-Dar smirked up at me, breaking me out of my daze, and winked as he said, "I could get used to this."

That sent a horrible blush all the way to my ears, and I tried to play it off with a laugh. I didn't realize I was moving until his lips appeared too close, too late to stop now. I switched targets and playfully kissed his nose to cover up my emotions. I finally forced myself up and called him a dork.

"You know it," he joked as I helped him stand, "now come on, the bus will be here soon."

Dar-Dar goes to take a quick shower and I head to his dresser to grab some clothes for after my own. He gave me two drawers since I started spending the night more often when Steven, my father, turned into a monster. Vanessa, Dare's mother, is almost never home, so I come here to get away from my abusive remaining family. It's not like either of us need much room for clothes anyway.

Dar-Dar walks out of the bathroom a couple minutes later in nothing but his bracelets and a towel. I head in to take my shower immediately after since I take a little longer with all my hair and the bus would be here soon.

As a Senior in high school, it's a little embarrassing having to take the bus, but now it's law with the gas shortage. Dar-Dar and I used to drive ourselves, but that's not really an option anymore.

I step under the rushing water and relax slightly. Bringing my arms up to start on my hair, I glance the newer wound on my inner left wrist. Dar-Dar and I made that one together, as in he has a matching cut in the same spot.

Continuing on my hair, my clear blue eyes wander to the other silvery scars littering the rest of my body. It's funny, I could probably tell where each one is from, who made it, why, with what, even when. But enough about that depressing subject.

Finally finishing my shower, I don't bother looking in the mirror as I dress, I already know what I'll see. I throw on the plain, dark-purple, long-sleeved shirt and slip my thumbs in the self-made holes near the cuffs, couple it with a pair of skinny jeans and my only pair of shoes, ratty old combat boots I've had for years. I leave my hair down to dry and make my way outside, the bus should be here by now. Sure enough, as soon as I open the front, the bus pulls up and we get on.

We sit in our usual seat on the right, if you're facing the front, in the middle between the center and back. I get next to the window. Knowing Dar-Dar likes to eavesdrop, or observe, everyone else's conversation, I opt to watch the moving scenery and occasional stops where Mr. Reed, the driver of the high school bus, lets others on.

I'm pretty observant of my surroundings, selectively. I don't listen to _everybody's_ conversations like Dar-Dar, but I do know most kids at our school, even some at the middle and elementary schools. Though, most of the younger kids I know because I babysit a lot.

The bus stops for about the third time since picking Dar-Dar and I up, this time on Park Trail Drive, where the Grieder's and McKinley's live. Dean Grieder is a Junior, he's the only one on this street who goes to the high school. His brother, Alex, is an eighth grader, so he takes Mrs. Wooly's bus for the middle and elementary kids. Caroline and Henry McKinley are twins in Kindergarten whose family lives next to the Grieders. The twins I babysit almost regularly, and Dar-Dar tags along sometimes.

I continued staring out the window as Mr. Reed honked the horn at Dean and the bus started moving again when he got on. No doubt in my mind Dar-Dar had listened to that conversation as well.

I hear snippets of other conversations and watch Dar-Dar out of the corner of my eye. I roll my eyes when he scoffs at something Jake, a Senior, says. Then, I catch him looking at his bracelets after Astrid, another Senior, mentioned something about her brothers, and shift his gaze to the seat in front of us. He was thinking of his sister.

This got me thinking about my own siblings, how I'm glad my older brother is gone but wish my baby sister was still with me. It made me itch to find something to cut with, but Dar-Dar and I agreed to leave our pocket knives behind whenever we're not in either of our houses. So I settled for digging my short nails into my palms, gaining the sweet distraction of pain I desperately craved, hoping I drew blood. Then I refocused on the fast moving outside world.

A few minutes pass, and a voice from beside me interrupts my scenery gazing. It is a welcomed distraction. "So, Andy, Happy Birthday," Dar-Dar nearly whispered, knowing I'd hear him. He reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a small jewelry box.

"What?" I gasped, seeing the box, "Oh, Dare, you know you didn't have to get me anything." I know he knew this, we've been friends since we were five years old, and have never been able to get present for each other's Birthdays, especially since they're so close. I'm only twelve days older than him.

"I know, but you're eighteen today, so I wanted to do something special," he argued, placing the box in my lap when I showed no sign of reaching for it myself.

I reluctantly opened it and almost began crying. Almost. "Oh my God," was the only thing I could say before my throat closed up and wouldn't allow me to continue. It was his older sister's favorite necklace when she was still alive. I knew Vanessa sold it, but I had no clue Dar-Dar found it, he never told me. The chain was silver with a five-petalled Mother-of-Pearl flower pendant and three, small, sapphire stones making up the center. I can't believe he's giving this to me, it means so much to him. Wait, since it was his sister's… and he's giving it to me… does this mean he thinks of me as a sister?

Slightly heartbroken at the thought, I let Dar-Dar put the necklace on for me and hug him anyway. It doesn't matter how he thinks of me, I'll always be there, I love him. Our hug was interrupted by a tinking noise coming from overhead. It sounded almost like rain, but more metallic. They proceeded to get louder until Mr. Reed screamed, "Holy Christ!" Looking up, I saw the ceiling begin to dent with each impact. I turned to the front and a cobweb crack spread over the windshield. With each hit, the windshield grew whiter as more cracks shot through the surface.

I shifted back to my window.

The scene before me was shocking, to say the least. I turn my back for one minute and the world goes to shit. All different sizes of hail from normal to softballs pelted the street in sheets.

Cars swerved everywhere, trying desperately in vain to dodge the insane hail. Mr. Reed slammed on the gas instead of the break, following everybody else's example.

The bus hurdled through an intersection, over the median, and into the parking lot of the local Greenway Superstore where Dar-Dar works. It's pretty deserted, I guess it doesn't open 'till later.

The bus hit a patch of ice and swerved into a spin. This wasn't the first vehicle related accident I've been in, so I bent forward to grab beneath the seat in front of us and closed my eyes as Dar-Dar clung to me. We spun faster for a couple seconds, then with a sickening, metallic shriek that felt like it dented the bus in half on our side a few seats ahead of the two of us which caused the seat I held onto to slightly give way, hit something head on up front.

I couldn't see much, but I assumed everybody else went flying because they weren't prepared. All I could hear after that was mine and Dar-Dar's breathing, others grunting, and impact sounds. It landed on our side, the window breaking to send one shard to imbed itself in my right shoulder and another slicing just above my right eye, and proceeded to scream down the asphalt. Something big and heavy fell on top of us as the bus shuddered to a stop. I could care less about the pain; I've dealt with way worse.

I felt slight movement above me, but was too tired from stabilizing both us to even open my eyes at the moment. Then the weight and arms around me slowly lifted. Dar-Dar was getting up, and I shortly wondered how he was able to. What if he was being beaten by the hail? I took a second to gather myself and relax my grip on the seat, gaining a little energy to lift my eyelids and glance around my small space.

Screams bombarded my ears from everywhere. I'm guessing the hail broke through all the windows and now people are taking cover. Or trying to.

A familiar voice sounds to my left, "You okay?" It was Dar-Dar, checking on me. I look up at him and nod, unable to form words for some reason. He sighs in relief and a tiny smile twitches the corners of his lips in reassurance.

He was standing a moment later, and I noticed he was holding something, someone, over our heads when a drop of blood landed on my cheek. It was Hector, a Junior in my P.E. class. He was dead, looks like a shard of window glass pierced an important artery in his neck and he bled out quickly. I only know what this is because it's more common than you'd think at a local hospital. That's where I volunteered every Thursday and Friday before all this happened.

I didn't bother wiping away any blood, mine or Hector's as more drops followed. I didn't even get up for a few minutes, so all I could gather was that others were still trying to scramble for cover with all the screaming and shouting. In the middle of the commotion, I heard soft whimpering and knew they wouldn't make it. Sure enough, a moment later, the whimpering ceased.

Then there was an ear-splitting shriek that trumped every other sound on that bus. I push myself up on arms I just realized were shaking to see what was going on. It was a Sophomore I pass in the hallways every once in a while, Josie Miller.

Apparently, Josie was the only one not trying to get out of the hail, but it looked like she was grasping at a lost cause. Her hands kept slipping off the limp arm of her friend. Poor Josie, she's in denial.

"Stop being a fucking dick!" Dar-Dar yelled at some jerk, and I followed his glare. Under an overturned seat, a Junior named Brayden Cutlass was trying to get a video of Josie freaking out on his minitab. He's an asshole, I wish I could freak out on him! But I wasn't close enough to either of them to do anything, and I wasn't going to leave Dar-Dar, no matter what. Brayden always went on and on about his dad working at NORAD, a government funded "research facility" experimenting on and for chemical weapons. I don't know why he praises and supports that company so much, it's just going to bite us in the ass one day.

I watched as a huge hailstone dropped on Josie's forehead at full force and left a pink gash, poor thing. Blood started oozing out of it, and anyone looking on knew the pelting ice would kill her if she didn't find cover. Thankfully, Niko Mills, another Junior, reached out a moment later to pull her under the seat he was using, and that started a sort of movement.

Others began trying to get out, like Astrid crawling toward the front to kick through the windshield. I looked around at all the exits. There was the door at the front, but that turned into part of the floor. Astrid didn't seem to have much luck with the windshield. Another "popular" Senior, Jake Simonson, and his "people" were blocking the emergency back exit. That left the two emergency ceiling hatches, one of which Dar-Dar and I could actually get to, it was close enough we could run and not take too much damage.

It appeared Dar-Dar had the same thought I did when he shouted to try the emergency exits and turned to me. We nodded at each other, he dropped Hector's body, and we dashed for the nearest ceiling hatch as others took the back and second hatch. There was only one problem… they were all stuck. Even Dar-Dar and I pushing together wouldn't make it budge. The hail must have dented the roof to overlap and the opening to spread in itself.

Everybody else panicked for a few minutes before a more comforting sound was barely audible over the screaming and banging. The beeping a school bus backing up.

I shifted a little to look out the windshield, as that was the direction I heard the beeping, and saw the elementary-middle bus backing out of the Greenway entrance. Mrs. Wooly had crashed her bus into the Greenway to get the younger kids to safety I realized, and now she was coming to save us high schoolers.

All of a sudden, black smoke poured in from somewhere up front, filling the space we were trapped in fast. Neither Dar-Dar nor I bothered trying to filter the air with our shirts or hold our breath. I didn't what he was thinking, but I was already slowing down and could no longer think straight.

My ears rang, head spun, and stomach flipped with everyone's cries getting louder and the smoke getting thicker.

Then the clanking of metal on metal sounded and the screams got even louder, but they sounded more hopeful.

A bright light flashed and wouldn't go away, blinding me, making my head pound. I fought to stay awake and upright.

A voice I never thought I'd be happier to hear cut through everything, bringing me back to my senses, if only long enough to move out to her bus.

"Get on the godforsaken bus!" Mrs. Wooly shrieked from the back exit with an ax in her hand.


End file.
